刷爆老外朋友圈：一位68岁中国的老太太，感动了所有加拿大人！,看英国微信公众号文章

本周加拿大《环球邮报》上发表的一篇个人文章广为传播，该文章讲述了一名来自中国的老太太长期坚持为生病的加拿大邻居做饭的事情。

令人惊奇的是，这篇文章在社交网络上疯转，在Facebook上的转发数几小时就达到约3万多！

也许这只是一则小故事，但她足以让所有人感动。。。

故事的主人公是一位81岁的加拿大老太太Angie Morris，和她的68岁中国邻居（另一位老太太）。

故事地点：加拿大温哥华。

Angie Morris年幼时生活在战时的英国，现在居住在卑诗省的温哥华。她写下了这则故事，描述了自己每天的日常生活，而她说，这些生活和作息规律都是由她的中国邻居培养起来的。

文章开头写道：

＂我家门铃在上午11点响了。门口站着一位中国老太太，她很瘦小，她一手牵着一个小男孩，另一只手拿着纸质购物袋。小男孩正害怕地往后缩，因为我的黄色拉布拉多正试图热情地迎接他。＂

＂我认识这位太太，她不是第一次到访。她是男孩的祖母，她的女儿去年十月买下了隔壁的这间房子。＂

My doorbell rings at 11 a.m. On the step, I find an elderly Chinese lady; she is small and slight, and she’s holding the hand of a little boy. In her other hand, she holds a paper carrier bag. The boy shrinks back as my yellow Labrador tries enthusiastically to greet him.

I know this lady. It is by no means her first visit. She is the little boy’s grandmother, and her daughter bought the house next door last October. It is one of several large, heritage-style houses that have replaced smaller, older homes in my block over the past couple of years – part of the madness that has gripped the Vancouver housing market.

＂Wing＂（68岁中国太太）就像天使一样一直定期给我送饭做菜：汤、米饭、蔬菜、肉或虾，有时还有煎饼。

My visitor’s daughter, Nicole (who speaks fluent English), is currently in Shanghai, but her parents are in the house for the summer with the little boy. Nicole has apparently told her mother that I am having heart surgery shortly, and the result is that her mother has decided I need to be supplied with meals.

＂突然有一天，＂Wing＂带来了她做的午饭，手里

＂Nicole告诉我，她母亲想知道食物味道如何，因为考虑到我必须小心对盐的摄入量。＂这一刻我真的被感动的说不出话来。

还有一次，＂Wing＂发现我自己把送饭食品盒和水瓶归还到她家门口时，她吓坏了，她赶紧拉着我进屋。

＂她一定是认为我太虚弱了。尽管我告诉她这些事对我并不是问题，但她还是坚持把我扶进屋，让我离台阶远一点。＂

“Your mother just can’t be bringing me meals like this all the time,” I protested. “I can hardly reciprocate by cooking something from my native land, like roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.”

“Oh, no,” Nicole said. “She doesn’t like Western food. Don’t worry about it; she has to cook for the three of them anyway, and she wants to do it.”

“Can you at least tell me her name?” I asked.

Nicole replied that I would never be able to pronounce her mother’s first name, so it would be fine to use her surname. I’ll call her Wing for the purposes of this tale.

So here we are, two grandmothers a world away from where we were raised, neither of us able to speak the other’s language but communicating one way or another (with some help from technology). The doorbell keeps ringing and there is the familiar brown paper carrier bag, handed smilingly to me by Wing.